There was a dog, thin and bony, digging through the trash. He gnawed on whatever bones he could find. Kaye looked upon the dog with pity. But he tried not to stop, he knew if he tried to approach the dog, it would run at best, attack at worst. Also slowing in this area would be dangerous. In fact, there were three young bangers following him at that moment. In his clinic scrubs, he looked weak, fragile even. Hoping that the boys wouldn't try to come after him, Kaye reached into his shoulderbag to get his apartment keys.

People thought Sin City was a place of fiction. They saw the glittering lights, they heard the music of the gaming floor, but they never went beyond that. They didn't realize that there was another world within this city. Of course, people knew that there was gambling going on, some even acknowledged the prostitution, that's as far as anyone wished to look. Kaye worked in a free clinic as a nurse. He saw first hand the evils of this sparkling city. Everyday, young men and women- children really- came in, to get the free blood tests that they offered. More than half of them would receive the worst of news, effectively ending their lives. He saw the bruises on faces, the trackmarks on arms, broken bones. The three behind him were probably among the young souls that came in, now trying to boost their image by taking down a 'helpless' man on the street.

Kaye made it into the apartment building before the three were able to attack. He hit the code to lock the door, and readjusting his bag, climbed the four flights of stairs to get to his apartment. On the first floor, a young couple was fighting, both sounding drunk. His glasses slipped up his forehead as he pinched the bridge of his nose, then glanced around the apartment. Joe was sitting in the fire escape window, a leg on either side, smoking a cigarette. His slim body was dark, the lights behind him, the tip of his cigarette glowing, iluminating his angular face. The sight of him lifted Kaye's spirits. No matter how bad of a day he had at work, coming home and seeing Joe there, and the day just washed away. The redhead on the window, glanced over at him, looking him up and down.

"Hey babe. You look like hell. What happened to you?" That accent that Kaye could never place, lifting and falling with the words. He loved it, it relaxes him, soothes him, but the day was worse than most. He shook his head, smiling weakly and set his bag on the counter, crossing the room to stand near his friend.

"Three cases of HIV today, and four, four, of full blown AIDS. Not one of them older than 16. The youngest was 13. He cried so hard when I told him, didn't get angry or threatening like most. Just... cried." His breath shook as it came out in a rushing sigh. Kaye's Creole French accent only came out in moments like these, when his emotions were starting to overwhelm him. He dragged his delicate looking fingers back through his brown hair.

Joe tossed his cigarette out the windows, it bounced off the building across the alley, landing on the sidewalk. He swung his long leg over the windowsill back into the room, and took Kaye in his arms. He leaned back, looking into the shorter man's eyes. The normally vibrant green were dull now, dark circles surrounding them. He clucked his tongue at his friend. "How about I make you some tea, hmm? Would that make you feel better?" He chucked Kaye gently under the chin.

The brunet laughed shakily. "Merci, bon." He sat on one of the bar stools at the counter that served them as a kitchen table. "It's heartbreaking. It's not like they can't come in and get protection. Hell, we've got a basket of condoms on the secretary's desk, you just need to sit through a ten minute lecture." He leaned his head on his hands, his fingers buried in his hair. "Ten minutes, it would've saved so many lives. And I'm the one that has to tell them that it's time to start saying goodbye. Even if they could afford medication, most of them are too far gone fo it to do any good, it wouldn't do much for the pain. God, if only it was a free-"

Joe cut him off with a wave of the hand. "I know. I know you'd heal them all if you could." He set the cup of tea down, sitting beside him. "But you can't, so do what you can." He lit another cigarette. "You could have left the clinic, finished medschool, and be working in a plastic surgeon's office. No, don't interupt me. If you had've done that, you wouldn't be the guy you are, you'd be... someone else. So, you work to make the world a better place, I'll do what I can to keep you sane."

Chuckling softly, Kaye raised his head from his hands. "And how do you propose to do that?"

Joe turned, the kitchen small enough that he could reach the fridge without standing, and pulled out a bottle of beer. He waved it back and forth in front of his friend's face. "Like this." He smirked almost playfully.

****

They drank steadily for nearly an hour, Joe doing most of the drinking. Kaye was beginning to relax though, feeling less like curling up in bed and not getting out for days.

Joe told him about his day at work. After spending his teenage years as a street tough, he enjoyed having a real job. He was a general labourer for one of the few construction companies that wasn't run by the mob. Which meant he didn't make much money. The two incomes combined were enough to pay for the shitty little apartment, bills, food and still have a bit to put away for the future. They didn't know what exactly they were saving for; a house, their own business, a farm in the country. Whichever they chose, it would be as far from the city as they could get.

After his third beer, Kaye was starting to finally feel hungry. He watched his friend continue drinking as he cut up some chunks of beef, sliced onion and tossed it all in a frying pan. "Rice to go with it, or noodles?"

"Rice. Got any cucumbers? I'm craving a salad or something crunchy."

Kaye nodded, pulling out a small cucumber from the crisper, slicing it thinly. He put them on a plate, sprinkled them with salt and handed the to Joe along with a small bowl of vinegar. "No dressing, is that ok?"

"Mmph." Joe said around a mouthful of the slices. "Wanna toss a pepper in with the meat? I picked up a few veggies on the way home from work." He gestured with a piece of cucumber to the fridge.

Kaye whipped up a fairly decent meal with the few items. He topped the rice with the beef, peppers and onions. Using a splash of beer, he had made a nice sauce to pour over the lot of it. He set the plates on the counter, and sat across from Joe. They linked fingers, Joe watched Kaye though his lashes as the other man murmured quietly, asking for blessings upon them both, thanking for the meal, and for his friend. He crossed himself before letting go of Joe's hand and picking up his fork. Joe was amazed that Kaye still prayed everyday.

After supper, Joe put a movie on and Kaye turned on a lamp to read a book. His legs curled up under him, he made himself comfortable on the couch next to his friend. Joe waited until Kaye was settled, then stretched out, pillowing his head on a slender thigh.

They had barely made it past the credits when a mad pounding came from the door. Joe rolled from the couch, grabbing his gun from the coffee table. He had it held to his side when Kaye placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's not needed. If someone were going to to try and rob or kill us, they wouldn't knock first."

Joe grunted and slid the gun into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back, concealing it with his shirt. "Can't be too careful Kaye." The person was knocking again, louder this time. He put himself between Kaye and the door, opening it slightly to peek out.

There was a small old woman in the hallway, a black shawl around her shoulders, silver hair pinned up in a knot on her head. She spoke rapidly in a flurry of spanish, gesturing wildly with her hands. Joe listened for a moment, glanced at Kaye and spoke back to the woman in her language. Kaye raised his eyebrows in surprise, I knew he spoke French, but... before he could comment, Joe nodded. "Kaye, she needs our, well your, help. Her granddaughter is unconcious. It seems her daddy came home with a mean drunk on a few days ago and beat her something fierce. Cut her up bad. They are illegals, and couldnt afford to take her to the hospital. She didn't wake up this afternoon." While he was explaining, he put his arm around the old woman and looked pleadingly at his friend.

"Ok, grab my bag. Its got some basic things in it, penicilin and the like." He put his glasses on and let the old woman lead him up a flight of stairs and down the hall. "Since when do you speak spanish, Joe?" he asked softly out of the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, you don't run the streets with gangs for years without picking up a skill or two." Joe touched the small of his back to make sure his gun hadn't fallen out, and spoke quietly to the woman for a moment. "The girl is five years old. Has a bad fever. Cold sweat."

Kaye nibbled his bottom lip. It sounded like septicemia, but he wouldn't know until he examined her. She was in a small room, a barely more than a walk in closet, looking tiny and delicate in her little bed. She had black hair, that was probably bright when she wasn't sick, but was now dull and limp. In the lamplight, Kaye could see sweat coating her face. A young woman, either the girls mother or sister, was sitting at the bed's side. "Joe, tell them I need to examine her, make sure its not just....cuts she's suffering from." The bruises on the girl's face filled him with dread.

He turned down the covers and made a motion to the woman, asking that she stay in the room in case the girl awoke. There was a deep cut in her upper arm, that one seeming to be the worst. Other gashes striped her back and thighs, looking like she had been beaten with a belt. Hands shaking, he carefully lifted her thigh, terrified of what he would find. Relief flooded through him when he saw there were no telltale bruises on the inside of her thighs. Lookng back at her face, he saw the point in her ears. So that's what Joe meant by Illegals. Demons were treated as second class citizens, worse if they weren't able to limit their power. He brushed his own limiters cuffed to his ear and shook his head. He didn't know why the limiters weren't offered as a free service. It's not as if the spells the preists need to put on them is very draining. A novice could do it. That's why Kaye had had to leave medical school. It had come out that his limiters had come from a novice in training while he was still living in the orphanage down south. The nuns that raised him, and paid for him to go to school were furious, but Kaye did what he could to move on.

"Joe, pen and paper please. I need you go to the clinic." He wrote out a quick list, and explained as best he could on the paper what he needed. "Just give this to Luce at the front desk. She'll get what else we need."

"I'll take the daddy's car." With that he was gone. Kaye hoped he would remember to remove the gun before entering the clinic.

Swearing quietly in french, Kaye turned his attention to the task at hand. The family obvously cared for the little girl, just didn't know how to treat her injuries. The cuts were all bandaged, but left that way. Either they didn't know that they had to, or didn't have enough bandages to change them often. The blood had dried from the cut on her arm, sticking the bandage to it. "What can I do?" asked the young woman. The sorrow in her eyes confirmed that she was the mother.

"Some warm water please. I need to loosen the bandages before I can do anything. And does she have any allergies?" A shake of a head as the woman left for the kitchen, coming back a few minutes later with a large bowl and a cloth, as well as a glass of cool water.

"For you," she held the water out, ducking her head at Kaye's thankful smile. He looked around, saw the bathroom and went in to scrub his hands before working. From his bag he pulled out a pair of latex gloves and snapped them on.

"Do you know what he hurt her with?"

"Big knife. He usually carries it around with him." Her voice was bitter. Kaye could understand. If he had have been in the woman's position... No point in thinking like that now.

"Not the first time, is it? Mon dieu. Is she an only child? No, ok." The woman had stopped talking, nodding or shaking her head as was needed, now only clutching her daughter's hand and stroking her hair.

While he worked, he explained what he was doing. The last thing they needed was for the woman to panic while he was in the middle of administering a shot. He had figured out what happened. The knife was dirty, the wounds not tended properly. The cuts had turned septic. Deadly if not treated quickly and properly. He didn't have enough penicilin in his bag, and what he did was in pill form. The amount he needed, and for it to work fast, he needed to give an injection. He waited anxiously for Joe to return. He soaked the bandages, gently peeling them back slowly, so as not to tear the skin further. He threw them all in a nearby trash can, and went about bathing the injuries. For the lashings on her back, he spread an antibacterial ointment. The hiss and whimper were the first real signs of life from the girl. "It just stings. It means it's doing it's job." Kaye told the mother, who had jumped up at the sound. "It's best if she stays asleep, it will help her recover more quickly."

"I got the stuff." Joe was back, standing in the doorway, a paper bag in hand. "The secretary looked like she'd done this before."

"There was a homeless guy that needed stitches, but I couldn't convince him to come into the office. Please, hold her still Madam." Kaye filled a large needle with the dosage he needed, for a demon her size, it would be slightly more than a full grown male human. He injected her swiftly, broke the needle- he didn't want to add yet another contaminated needle to the streets- and began carefully spreading the ointment on her cuts. He let them air for a while since they were no longer bleeding. By the time he wound fresh bandages on them, he was exhausted and fell asleep holding the girl's hand.

*****

The room was quiet, save for the girl's now relaxed breathing. Good, the medicine is starting to work. He sat up, looked for his glasses and massaged the shoulder he had fallen asleep on. From his chair in the tiny bedroom, he could see out into the livingroom where Joe was sitting, his head bent over his lap, shaking back and forth every so often.

"Who's a widdle woozen woo? You's a widdle woozen woo!" He nodded rapidly, his scarlet hair dancing. "Uh huh!" There was a shriek of happy laughter, as two tiny fists grabbed ahold of Joe's hair and tugged. "Aww, look how strong the woozen is! Ow, 'kay kid, that's startin' to hurt!"

Kaye leaned against the doorframe, watching in amazement. He knew that his friend liked children, but he didn't know that he was so good with them. "A woozen?"

Joe looked up sheepishly. The baby still had a firm grip on his shoulderlength hair, so he couldn't lift his head too high. "Uh, yeah. It sounds better than gremlin, or twerp, dontcha think?"

"I suppose it does. But, why are you holding the, um, woozen?"

Transfering the baby boy from his lap to his chest, Joe stood up and peeked in on the girl to see how she was doing. "The mother had to go to work, and Nana was about to drop from exhaustion just like you. I told her to get some sleep, I'd watch the baby for her." He patted the little boy's bottom, and bounced as he paced the room. "I'm off work for the long weekend, so its not like I didn't have the free time. 'Sides, I like kids." He held the baby in front of his face. "I like's 'em for dinner!" and he buried his face in the boy's tummy and raspberried. He grinned at his friend. "Do you wanna feed the little squirt?"

Kaye picked up the bottle that Joe gestured to and took the baby, sitting on the couch. The formula had been warmed already. "Here, hold his head like-"

"I'm a nurse Joe, I've held children before."

"Well turn him to your other side, they like hearing your heartbeat when you feed them."

They sat side by side, taking turns holding the infant and the bottle until he fell asleep. Whenever one of them tried to move, he baby's face screwed up in a pout and he started to sniffle unhappily in his sleep, so they sat like that, the boy across there laps. Joe had his hand lightly on the boy's chest to feel him breathing.

"The girl alright now?" They spoke in whispers.

"Her temperature had dropped considerably when I left the room, and she actually rolled over on her own. I think she'll be fine."

"That's good. You did a good job."

Kaye smiled slightly, still looking down at the baby between them. His nose scrunched up, and he rubbed at his eye, but didn't wake.

"You want one, don't you?"

Joe looked around, then turned to whisper conspiritorially to his friend. "Well, Nana's still asleep. Why don't we take this one?" He was reaching down for the diaper bag when Kaye punched him in the arm. "No? Well, don't say I didn't offer." He chuckled and let his head fall back, resting on Kaye's shoulder with a large yawn.

The elderly woman found them like that, heads resting against one another, fingers twined together, the baby still contentedly asleep between them. She clucked her tongue loudly. Well there's a waste of two perfectly good looking men. She thought with a huff. After checking on her granddaughter, and staring at the two for a long moment she decided to leave them that way. They looked like they needed the sleep. And they are not a sneeze to look at.